<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>the truth and how it festers by thebrandywine</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24341935">the truth and how it festers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebrandywine/pseuds/thebrandywine'>thebrandywine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Detective Evan Greene [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Detective, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Flirting, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Kidnapping, Magic, Murphy is a dreamwalker, Near Death Experiences, Parent-Child Relationship, Pre-Slash, Secret Identity, Supernatural Elements, Swearing, evan's got a potty mouth, like... kind of a lot, mostly hurt though lmao, poor evan keeps getting wailed on :(, which we know but they're discussed more!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:35:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,944</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24341935</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebrandywine/pseuds/thebrandywine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On his first day as Wayhaven PD's new detective, Evan Greene finds his life as an average, public servant quickly converging with his double life as a secret agent for a shadowy government agency. With a killer on the loose, a unit of vampires trying to stop him from solving the crime, and the desperate need to maintain his cover, Evan has to answer one crucial question: can he trust Unit Bravo?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Detective Evan Greene [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1754935</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Monster Town</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Welcome to my AU rewrite of The Wayhaven Chronicles: Book One! I love the books as they are but I kept circling around one question while reading: what if the Detective was already in the know and was secretly working for the Agency already? I've used some dialogue straight from the books but there are some major differences due to a number of canon divergences. This also gave me a chance to play a different type of character than I usually do, which was fun! Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Evan likes to think that in his six years on the force he’s learned a lot about police procedure and handling crimes. When he lays on the horn to scatter the crowd of onlookers surrounding the first crime scene of his career, however, he’s not really too focused on precedent. He also doesn’t think that this, odd as it is, will be the start of a major change in his life and in Wayhaven as a whole. He thinks that this is just a sloppy example of human on human murder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His time at the crime scene does little to dissuade him of that notion. As the techs secure the woman’s body for transport, he turns away, thinking to himself that after everything else he’s done during his tenure at WPD, a normal murder had been a long time coming.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Officer Greene— I mean, Detective!” a grating voice yells. Evan clenches his jaw as his fingers tighten on the handle of his car door. “Have a second to talk?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bobby Marks,” he sighs without turning around, muscling his door until it opens. “The Wayhaven Police Department is unable to make a comment at this time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not even for an old friend?” the reporter asks with a sleazy smile. Evan gets in his car and slams the door, ignoring Bobby shouting through the window. He revs the engine so the crowd gets clear and takes off. Unfortunately, Bobby doesn’t stay within range of vehicular manslaughter— a damn shame.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he finally walks into Haley’s for some much needed caffeine, she looks up from the register, examines him for a moment, and says, “Morning, Ev. Bobby catch you again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan groans and slumps toward the counter. “Can I get a coffee and a pastry please, Haley?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure thing,” she says with a quiet laugh. After a few moments, she plants both items on the counter. “On the house.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With one hand already halfway into his wallet, Evan freezes. “You sure?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anything for my old beard,” she grins. It falls after a moment, her face becoming somber. “I heard you’re gonna need it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan sighs but dutifully puts his wallet in his back pocket, already planning to double tip the next time he visits. “Gotta love small towns.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At that, Haley laughs again. “Worse than when we were in school. At least I know it’s you out there protecting us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She has too much faith in me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Evan thinks to himself, exasperated. Out loud he says, “Thanks, Haley.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a quick phone confiscation, Evan heads down to Verda’s lair, eyeing the ‘No food or drinks allowed’ sign and clutching his coffee tighter out of spite. When poking at the victim’s cell phone gives him a potential lead, he heads off. In chronological order he gets scared by some pigeons, is tackled by a stranger, and almost shoots another before attempting to talk the group down. By the time he clambers back into his car, his braid is half falling out and he has a sneaking suspicion about who his guests were. He collects a sample, sighs to himself, and goes the fuck home.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>When he looks up from fixing the break room kettle the next day to find his mother looking him up and down like he’s a stranger (he is) and she’s trying to memorize him as quickly as possible, he instantly knows that the murder is not a random act of human on human violence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mum,” he says or thinks he says. Rebecca Greene, in the flesh, in his own fucking station.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Evan,” she breathes with a smile, placing a hand on his arm. “You always did have a knack for technology.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan frowns and politely doesn’t shake her hand off. “This is a surprise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looks away for a moment before returning her gaze, smile a bit more strained. “I’m sorry it hasn’t been sooner.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ve both been busy,” he says noncommittally, stepping away and leading her toward his office.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She glances over the board he’s putting together about the murder before settling into the uncomfortable chair across from the desk. “So I can see.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why are you here?” Evan asks once they’re both seated. “The title of Agent Rebecca Greene growing a bit dull?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shakes her head. “No, work is going fine. In fact, that’s partly why I’m here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan raises an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The case you’re working on,” she says, looking the board over. “It’s bigger than you think.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A murder is pretty big on its own,” he says mildly. “How can it be bigger?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before she can respond, Evan’s computer chimes with the sound of an arriving email. He glances over for a moment before doing a double-take and squinting at the screen. The email, from someone named catLUVers@kitties.uk, reads: “Gosh, our white itty tigers’ happiness is together! Buy ‘em! Come and respect every fluffy universal love!” Attached is an image of a white tiger cub with yellow, cartoon eyes. He scoffs and thinks </span>
  <em>
    <span>sloppy work, Corinne</span>
  </em>
  <span> before deleting the email.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everything alright?” Rebecca asks with a furrowed brow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Spam,” Evan mutters, rubbing his eyes. “Always coming at inconvenient times.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What their conversation essentially boils down to is this: Evan needs Rebecca’s help (implying that the case is supernatural, which he isn’t supposed to know about) and she’ll be granting him the use of her team, Unit Bravo (which makes the subject of the lazily encoded spam email a lot clearer— </span>
  <em>
    <span>go with it. be careful</span>
  </em>
  <span>.) When the unit walks in, Evan knows two things in a few moments. First, he met all of them last night outside of the old Farris Warehouse. Second, they’re all vampires. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Called it</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Very quickly, he connects some dots. The main one, aside from the fact that this murder case has now veered into supernatural territory, is that somehow he and his mother both ended up working for the same shadowy organization. He keeps a straight face through the introductions but is laughing his ass off internally.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The moment after Rebecca leaves, Evan’s office phone goes off. “Excuse me,” he says. He twists and leans over to grab it without walking around his desk and can absolutely feel Mr. Doom-and-Gloom checking out his ass. “Hello?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A computerized voice intones, “Gosh, our white—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rolls his eyes and hangs up before turning back around. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I got it, Corinne. Jesus</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Douglas, have the phone company put us back on the ‘do not call’ list please!” he shouts through the open office door. Looking back at the team, he shakes his head. “Sorry, spammers keep calling.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s quite alright, Detective,” Nate says with a smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan twists his braid around so it rests on his shoulder. “We know little about the crime at the moment, due to our limited resources. But we gathered a good amount of evidence with the aid of the city’s crime scene technicians. We’re a small town, with very little crime—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Very little crime that you are aware of,” Adam cuts in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan glances over at him but doesn’t respond. “We did manage to find the victim’s phone, which my colleague, Tina Poname, is currently working through. As for the murder itself—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We already know about the murder,” Adam cuts him off again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Man, this guy has a stick up his ass</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Evan thinks. Out loud he says, “Still, I’d like to go through all the facts before continuing, so we’re all on the same page.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Douglas pokes his head in the door. “Detective, the phone lady wants to talk to you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pinching his nose, Evan says, “Doug. Please take a message. That’s ninety percent of your job.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Douglas just shifts in place, darting a glance back at the front desk, Evan exhales heavily. Giving the team a strained smile, he says, “Please excuse me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the front desk, he snatches up the phone and grinds out, “Yes?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A modulated voice with a familiar French accent tuts at him, causing his shoulders to loosen. “Attitude, Detective!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan snorts. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span>, C. Can you please put us back on the ‘do not call’ list? This is a precinct, not a home phone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She laughs. “I will, under one condition. Don’t tell anyone!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan arches a brow when she hangs up, her message clear. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t tell the people from your own Agency that I’m actually their colleague. Got it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you know her, Detective?” Douglas asks. “She sounded kind of hot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan grabs his shoulder and shoves him into the desk chair. “Douglas, please for the love of God, do your job. I don’t care if you’re the mayor’s son. I might not be able to fire you but I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> give you the worst shifts known to man.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, sir,” the kid says in a strangled voice. Evan pats him once on the shoulder before stalking back into his office, Felix looking very amused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, before we get interrupted again,” he says as he perches on his desk. “We have to work as a team. I understand that you have all obviously been working together for some time, but that doesn’t mean you all can’t work together with me as well.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix, barely hiding a laugh, says, “The look on our leader’s face says he’s inclined to disagree.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we just get on with the job now?” Mason cuts in. He lights a cigarette right next to the ‘No Smoking’ sign and Evan resolutely ignores him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mason’s right,” Adam says. He uncrosses his arms and his bulk seems to grow. “We should get right on with the task at hand, rather than discussing details we already know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before Evan can rebut, Adam starts barking orders at the rest of the unit, all of them rising in a moment ready and eager to do his bidding. He tries, briefly, to entertain the thought of following the spam email’s encoded order. Then he makes an executive decision to ignore it. He plants his feet and stands up from his slouch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You cannot just barrel in here and crash about town in the hopes of finding a deranged murderer hiding out there somewhere!” Evan says. His voice is louder than he intends for it to be, causing Douglas to flinch and look up meekly from his phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adam turns around slowly, seeming more confused at the moment than angry. “Following my lead is the only way we’ll catch the killer.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan takes a step forward, refusing to baulk at the man’s height and (frankly insane amount of) muscles. “You may be the leader of this team, but I’m the leader of this station. You are guests here, so help me or get out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Felix grinning at the tension. Nate takes a step forward, puts a hand on Adam’s shoulder, and suggests they split up. The heavy mood settles down somewhat as Evan lets out a long breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to talk to our pathologist about the autopsy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then I will go with you,” Nate offers. “And the rest can go with Adam to—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think it was ‘crash about town,’” Felix cuts in, still smiling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Great,” Evan says tiredly. “Meet back in a few hours?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone looks to Adam who thinks for a moment before nodding. “A few hours then,” he says. With that, three quarters of Unit Bravo exit the station.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anything to get away from this guy’s ego</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Evan thinks to himself. He steps past Nate and asks, “Is he always like that or am I special?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It could have gone worse,” Nate says, although it sounds more like a question. “I apologize.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they push open the door to the stairwell, Evan cuts him off and says, “Don’t worry about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He very sincerely has bigger fish to fry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After their visit to Verda’s underground lair, as well as Nate’s piss-poor attempts at dissuading them from considering the evidence, you know, </span>
  <em>
    <span>evidence</span>
  </em>
  <span> (Evan’s pretty sure he’d be suspicious even if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> know why the guy got all cagey), they go back upstairs to return to the land of the living. When Evan and Nate settle back into the Head Detective's office, absentmindedly sipping their drinks, Evan forces his brain away from the blood to make small talk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not a fan of coffee?” He asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I like it; I just prefer tea,” the other man says with a smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His mind wanders back to the blood, to the victim. She’d clearly been human so why had someone tried to flush out her blood and replace it with a vampire’s? </span>
  <em>
    <span>It doesn’t make any sense</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he gripes internally. Nate sets his mug down on Evan’s desk, kindly using a coaster, and in an instant Evan knows what he needs to do.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clearly Unit Bravo is here for the supernatural element of this case, but there seems to be something more to it than that if his mother’s cryptic remark to Adam before she left means anything. If Evan can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> work with them on this case, then he’ll need to do some research on his own, and that means—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe it would be good to check out the Farris Warehouse again,” he remarks in an absent tone. He keeps his eyes on his coffee and carefully doesn’t look at the man sitting across from him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nate leans forward. “If you’d like, I can go with the rest of my team later?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan looks up. “Are you sure? I don’t want to pawn my responsibilities off onto you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nate shakes his head. “Please, don’t fret over that. It will be a good opportunity to acquaint ourselves with the area. And also speak with my team about how to work with others.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan gives a soft laugh. “Alright.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you certain you don’t mind?” Nate asks, concerned. “You did make your objections quite clear earlier about us going about town on our own.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan laughs again, a bit louder this time. “It’s fine. At least you </span>
  <em>
    <span>asked</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” When he looks up, Unit Bravo is walking in and heading their way. He holds his tongue and takes a sip of his coffee instead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nate follows his glance and says, “Oh! Any luck out and about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It yielded little,” Adam says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, the detective and I have been talking and he suggested we check out one of the warehouses on the edge of town. He had an incident there with some possible suspects.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adam just about whips his head around to look at his teammate. “And he agreed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan snorts and takes a pointed sip of his coffee. Behind Adam, Felix makes eye contact and grins.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on,” Nate says. “We better get going before the sun sets. See you tomorrow, Detective. It was good working with you today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two exchange smiles. “It was good working with you, too, Nate. See you tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After they exit the station, Tina leans across the doorway with all of the grace and caution of an overly excited dog. “What was </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan, fully aware that they could still hear into the station if they wanted, just laughs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night, safely ensconced in his own apartment, Shadow Agent Rook does some investigating of his own. He finds, among other things, that Janet Greenland had gone to a series of doctors in her youth for recurring nightmares of a man entering her bedroom, visits that stopped after her twentieth birthday. There are other unsolved murders in the Agency’s database that show the same, but they seem to be poorly organized on purpose. Accessible data leads him around in circles around surface-level information, as if someone’s attempting to hide something bigger than a simple murder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck,” he breathes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His apartment is nearly silent, the sound of his heart loud enough in his ears that he wonders if his neighbors can hear it. Lines of code flash past his eyes as he decrypts massive amounts of data, face lit only by the light of his screen. Hours pass by without him noticing, too focused on figuring out what’s really going on. Fuck Unit Bravo and </span>
  <em>
    <span>screw</span>
  </em>
  <span> Corinne— he’s going to solve this case and protect his town.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he finally manages to pull the official case file from the Agency’s database, it spreads open before him: information about the victims, potential motives of the murderer, and a map of his path around the world. Evan knows that it’s all there, but his eyes are locked on a picture of the man in question. He freezes in place, feeling like if he moves, the man will jump through the screen at him with an outstretched hand. The familiar smile on the screen mocks him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. No, no, no…” he hyperventilates.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Distantly, he thinks back on his mother’s warning, her ‘hunch’ that the murderer wouldn’t be leaving Wayhaven any time soon. He shuts down his computer haphazardly, scrambles to the bathroom in the dark just in time to vomit into the sink, and has a panic attack until he mercifully passes out.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I definitely wrote this imagining it with a movie soundtrack so every chapter will include an endnote with the songs I used to write them, in order based on the major scenes or the general vibes!</p><p>This chapter brought to you by "Drive Me Round" by Mallrat [the murder scene to the station], "Pretty Pimpin" by Kurt Vile [Unit Bravo], and  "Monster Town" by Go! Child [the research].</p><p>For the full playlist, search Spotify for "greene (twc)" by thebrandywine!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Strange Weather</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He walks into his office the next day half-soaked from the rain and feeling somewhat hungover from the stress of last night’s research, already exhausted from his constant paranoia. He yanks his jacket off and is halfway through hanging it on the coat hook in his office when he notices that Unit Bravo is already there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Detective,” Nate says with a genuine smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan hangs up his dripping outer layer, fixes his hoodie with a tug, and says, “You’re all here early.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We don’t sleep much,” Felix grins to which Nate sighs heavily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you find anything at the warehouse?” He asks, fully aware that they didn’t. He drops heavily into his chair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nate shifts forward. “Well, we thought—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Adam cuts in. Nate cuts a glance over at the unit leader, brow furrowed. Evan watches the tension with something akin to amusement, as does Felix.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As Adam said, we didn’t find anything.” Nate eventually settles on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan nods absentmindedly, barely listening. “Well, we still need to find the actual murder site. She definitely wasn’t killed where she was found. Was it the same with the other murders he’s committed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Were any of the victims from the same location?” Evan asks, flipping through some paperwork on his desk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason, tucked into the shadow of the tallest filing cabinet in the room, laughs condescendingly. “Their locations meant nothing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan glances up, eyes locking with the vampire’s, and gives a completely unprofessional grin. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, what an asshole.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nate speaks again, drawing his attention back to the conversation at hand. “The previous victims came from all over.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s an understatement,” Felix says, trying to balance his chair on its back legs. Evan very helpfully doesn’t tell him that one of the back legs is shorter than the other. “We’re talking worldwide.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan knows, but he mutters, “And here I can barely afford to put gas in my car.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nate smiles and Felix chuckles. “At least it’s meant we’ve gotten to go to some interesting places in search of him. Remember Alaska? Mason did not do well in the cold. But there weren’t as many humans in Alaska, so that helped cheer him up a little.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan smothers a grin, amused despite himself. “Not many humans?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A silence descends on the room. Evan, with his expertise in spymanship, does not laugh in their faces over how bad they are at concealing their </span>
  <em>
    <span>condition</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Adam furrows his brow, face stony, as Felix lets out a strained laugh and says, “Oh, you know, not many people. Heh…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before he can keep fucking with them, Tina knocks on the door and sticks her head in. “Ev, can I talk to you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan immediately stands up and walks over. She only calls him Ev if something’s wrong. He shuts the door behind him when he leaves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kate Hayes rang this morning, worried for Garret.” She says once they reach the front desk. His heart jackrabbits in his throat but he keeps a straight face. As far as Tina knows, he and Garret only know each other from whenever the kid spends time at the station after school. “He didn’t come home last night. What if something happened? With a psycho running around town—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck procedure</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Evan thinks. “We need to be out there looking for him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tina nods sharply. “I’ll call Len and the other volunteers. Hopefully they’ll be around to help with the search. Thanks, Evan.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both flinch when the phone goes off. Tina grabs for it immediately. “Oh, it must be Kate. She said she’d ring back as soon as Garret turned up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gut still churning in concern, and not entirely trusting that the phone call will be the harbinger of good news, Evan walks right into Adam as they both attempt to go through the office door. Though surprised, Adam says, “I apologize. I wasn’t paying attention.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Neither was I. Sorry.” Evan’s halfhearted in his stilted apology. After a moment, he asks, “You really don’t want to be here, do you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re here now,” the other man says. “So it’s more of a question of dealing with it, rather than liking it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, it’s not so bad here. Maybe it’ll grow on you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like a tumor, you mean?” Adam asks. His tone is dry but Evan recognizes an attempt at joking when he hears one. Evan snorts and opens his mouth to reply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ev?” Tina calls from the front desk. Her face is bloodless and her fingers are bone white from clenching the phone. Evan already knows what she’s going to say and feels a riptide of grief wash over him. Adam shifts at his back. “There’s been another murder.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Poor kid,” Felix says once they’ve all met at the crime scene. Evan’s throat is so tight that it strangles any reply he could have given. Garret’s body is crumpled in the alley, face hidden, left to rot next to a pile of garbage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tina approaches and says with a shuddering breath, “It’s… It’s Garret Hayes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan places a hand on her shoulder and squeezes. “I’m so sorry, Tina.” His voice is rough with emotion but remarkably composed. The vampires behind him, he’s sure, are able to pick up on the depth of emotion he’s feeling and hiding. One pair of eyes is burning into his shoulder blades.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just find who did this, okay?” Tina glances up, eyes full of unshed tears, but she doesn’t cry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nods and drops his hand. “What details do we have?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a glance at her notepad, Tina says, “Nothing much. A road cleaner spotted him early this morning. The forensic team won’t be here for a while since they have to travel back from the city.” She gives Garret’s body one last look before walking away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Quite the woman, that one,” Felix says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nate swats him on the back of his head immediately. “You’re standing at a murder scene. Show some respect.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We better get on before the crowds roll in,” Evan says absently. He can’t take his eyes off on Garret’s body. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s so small</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s grown since I first met him, but</span>
  </em>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are we sure it’s the same killer?” Adam asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason exhales, presumably smoke. “Yeah, it’s definitely him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A hunch?” Evan asks. He shakes off the malaise and moves toward the scene, taking careful steps so as not to disturb anything overmuch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason snorts. “Yeah. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>hunch</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan crouches and swallows back the guilt he feels at seeing Garret’s corpse. “Killer must’ve dragged him down by the collar.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Detective, wait!” Nate says when Evan pulls the collar away with a pen. Garret’s head lolls, neck thoroughly shredded by the killer’s teeth. There’s a moment of silence before Evan gives a shaky exhale.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, kid,” he whispers. He lingers for one long moment, letting the grief wash over him, before he stands and shoves it all into a box to be dealt with later. He knows what happened now, essentially, is that Garret had just been in the wrong place at the right time. He can assume that the same man who murdered Janet Greenland had killed Garret, too, which says something about the killer’s mental state. Most of the vampires in Wayhaven are a lot more careful when it comes to feeding. He grinds his teeth so forcefully that even he can hear them creak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Evan,” Tina says, pulling him back to the present. “The forensic team is here and… his mother needs to be notified.” She walks off once Evan nods to meet with the technicians.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighs quietly through his nose. “I’m going to go deliver the news. I’ll meet you guys back at the station.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before he can get too far, Adam calls out. “You’re not going alone. One of us is going with you. The rest of us have to check in with Agent Greene.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cause that tone’s really gonna make him open to suggestions,” Felix scoffs. He slaps Adam on the back. “Nice going!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan takes a quick moment to examine what he knows so far, officially and unofficially. Vampire killer. Going after people with a mutation in their blood. All of the victims may have had dreams. Evan’s had those dreams. His mother and her team appearing out of nowhere. Corinne telling him to go with it. It takes longer than he’d like to admit before the pieces fully fall into place: a protection detail, for little ole him. The Agency must have finally gotten to his hospital records and blood test from when he was twenty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what, Adam?” He turns around to face the team. “It would actually be nice to have some support. Why doesn’t Mason come?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man in question almost drops his cigarette. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix grins. “Oh, well now I want to go, just to see how this is gonna play out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nate and Adam share a glance before Adam gives the order. “Mason, go with the detective.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason tenses. “You can’t really expect me to work with him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do and you will,” Adam says. “You know our mission here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason lets out a sharp breath. “Fine, then let’s get going.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The drive to the Hayes home is silent. Mason smokes like a chimney on the way there and even though Evan eventually rolls his window down to let some of the smoke out, he takes a few deep breaths first to calm his nerves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they walk up the neat front steps to Kate’s home, Evan looks at Mason out of the corner of his eye and says, “Whatever she does, let me handle it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason scoffs but otherwise stays silent as Evan reaches up to knock. When Kate opens the door, before his hand even connects with the wood, she looks consumed with worry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Detective Greene,” she croaks. She saves ‘Evan’ for when they’re alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Kate,” Evan says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing… here…?” she asks, her eyes widening. “That murder this morning… no. No! I don’t believe it. No!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before she crumples to the ground, Kate lashes out with a firm slap that knocks Evan’s head a few inches toward Mason, who raises an eyebrow slightly in surprise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You said,” she wails as she falls to her knees. “You said he’d be safe! He trusted you and—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know, Kate,” Evan says as he pulls her to her feet and shuffles her inside. Mason follows, slamming the door behind them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s your fault,” she hiccups. “It’s all your fault.” Garret’s face stares out at them from the photos on the wall, smiling and so happy. “He’s dead because of </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he sits her down on the sofa, she looks up to see his normally stoic face twisted in grief and guilt. He says again, “I know, Kate.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All at once, the fight goes out of her. He asks his questions, Mason uses his pheromones to get Kate to cooperate, and they leave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for the help,” Evan says once they’re both in the car. He resolutely avoids so much as glancing at the window looking in on the living room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t do anything,” Mason sneers. He sinks deeper into his seat like he’s trying to soak up the excess warmth. Evan looks away but flicks on the passenger’s side seat warmer without comment. He starts the car and drives off. He’s angry all of a sudden. Not at Mason. Not at Kate. Just angry— pissed, fuming, </span>
  <em>
    <span>furious, </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>fucking fed up</em>
  </b>
  <span>— with the world, and he reverts to old habits. He tries to start a fight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You like this with everyone?” He snaps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Only those who insist on talking to me,” Mason glares. Evan scoffs. “The only reason I’m here is because Adam told me to be, and it’s lucky I was here or you would have gotten nothing out of that sobbing, incoherent mess of a woman.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan takes a right turn too sharply and the car rocks, shifting Mason roughly against the center console. “You’re a real charmer, huh? So much compassion for a grieving mother.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Compassion doesn’t help me do my job.” Mason lights another cigarette.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus,” Evan says as the fight drains out of him. He’s tired. “What the hell does the Agency do to you people?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason’s expression flickers as if the barb had hit too close to home but doesn’t move. They shifted closer during their argument, faces close together in order to better yell at each other even though Evan’s driving. They both seem to notice at the same time and Evan gives a sharp grin, more teeth than anything. For a moment Mason seems surprised before he smirks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess you’re not so angry at me after all,” he says, settling back into his seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan turns back to the road, the tension in his shoulders loosening somewhat. “Guess not.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>After their meeting with Verda, Evan, Nate, and Adam ascend the stairs back into the station proper. His brain circles around what he’d learned about Unit Bravo during his research last night, how strong Mason’s pheromones must be if he could even give Evan a headache that still lingers. Out loud he mutters, “I love the guy but I don’t know why he always acts surprised when I know things. May have gotten my GED but I went to college.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they walk into his office and he spots the haphazardly fixed desk corner, he just shakes his head and sits down. Felix seems disappointed. “You’re not even going to ask?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Evan sighs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happens now?” Mason asks. They all turn to face him, which is honestly surprising.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Truthfully, he knows what happens next, which is nothing. He has nothing to go on as far as the killer is concerned, they can’t discuss the supernatural element, and any evidence they have on the human side of things will essentially get them nowhere. The fact that they’re choosing to defer to him </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span> means that they’re also fully aware of how this will proceed. It’s nothing short of aggravating, even though he knows that it isn’t their fault.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lets out a breath. “Let’s go back over the evidence, I suppose. We don’t have much but it’s possible that we missed something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adam crosses his arms. “That’s as sensible a course of action as any other at this point.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sarcasm isn’t lost on Evan but he lets it be. He’s already thinking about the research he’ll be doing on his own tonight.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter brought to you by "Strange Weather - Acoustic" by Metric, "Cathedrals" by jump, small children, and "Let Me Down Slowly" by Alec Benjamin.</p><p>For the full playlist, search Spotify for "greene (twc)" by thebrandywine!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Every Breath You Take</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The evidence, predictably, brings them nothing new. Tina has better luck than them after interviewing the residents around the alley Garret was killed in. Apparently, one of them had heard some sort of chanting. Tina continues her interviews but Evan hopes, prays, and pleads that chanting, in this case, doesn’t equal thralls. Those things are <em> damn </em> creepy.</p><p> </p><p>“Something wrong, Detective?” Nate asks.</p><p> </p><p>Evan looks up from his empty inbox. “I was hoping for the blood test results by now.”</p><p> </p><p>“They’re still not here?” Felix frowns in confusion. “We should have gotten the Agency to do it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Welcome to Wayhaven,” Evan says. “Where the hospital hates the police department almost as much as criminals do.”</p><p> </p><p>Mason snorts quietly. Nate says, “It is strange adjusting to how small town procedures work. The Agency is focused on what agents need, so it’s unusual for us to have to wait for evidence or test results.” After a moment he asks, “Mind if we get your opinion on something? It seems we’re at an impasse, neither of us agreeing with the other.”</p><p> </p><p>Evan gives half a grin, standing to move around his desk. “‘Course.”</p><p> </p><p>Nate smiles but before he can ask, Tina pokes her head in. “Ev. The mayor’s on the phone for you.”</p><p> </p><p>He sighs heavily at the nickname and rubs his eyes. “Sorry. Go on without me.”</p><p> </p><p>If nothing else, the conversation makes him wish even more fervently that he could have justifiably run down Bobby Marks with his car at the site of Janet Greenland’s murder, <em> but </em> — he knows how to be a professional. He agrees with the mayor to patrol, not that he had any say in it, and hangs up the phone. He briefly contemplates setting the latest edition of the <em> Wayhaven Press </em> on fire, but figures that the alarm would give him an even worse headache once it goes off.</p><p> </p><p>“What did the mayor want?” Adam all but demands the moment Evan steps back into his office.</p><p> </p><p>“To let me know that I’ll be going on patrol tonight because his son can’t keep his mouth shut,” Evan gripes halfheartedly. Patrol’s never bothered him, but he’s tired after late nights of researching and long days of pretending.</p><p> </p><p>He settles back into his chair as Felix asks, “Patrol? Like, walking? Around town?”</p><p> </p><p>Evan grins. “That’s usually what patrol involves, yes.”</p><p> </p><p>When Adam steps forward and starts with, “You can’t—”, Nate is quick to cut him off.</p><p> </p><p>“We’ll join you, Detective. Five sets of eyes are going to be better than one.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks,” Evan says. He thinks about walking the streets with a vampire out for his blood and barely suppresses a shudder. “I really would appreciate the help.”</p><p> </p><p>Nate sits down again. “It’s what we’re here for, Detective. You might as well put us to use.”</p><p> </p><p>“A lot of good a patrol’s gonna do,” Mason scoffs. Evan, despite himself, agrees.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Is it always this quiet?” Felix asks when they’ve all convened at the city center hours later. The sun has sunk well below the horizon and his breath comes out as a cloud.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a quiet town, usually,” Evan says, unsurprised by their arrival. The four of them had appeared almost soundlessly, but he’d heard them coming. “More so than usual as of late.”</p><p> </p><p>“The murder probably frightened them enough to keep them indoors,” Nate says. Evan twists his mouth into a small grimace.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry you guys have to freeze out here with me,” he says genuinely. He can already see Mason huddling further into his jacket.</p><p> </p><p>Felix rocks back on his heels and smiles. “Better than being bored in the warm.”</p><p> </p><p>Adam passes off an Agency radio that Evan pretends he’s never seen before, laughing internally since he wrote the code for the damn things. They make something of a posse as they walk around town. They’re mostly quiet, with Felix occasionally making jokes. About two hours in, Nate says, “I can’t remember the last time I just enjoyed a walk.”</p><p> </p><p>“This isn’t supposed to be a stroll, Nate,” Adam grouses. Evan hides his grin in his coat collar.</p><p> </p><p>Nate shrugs. “You have to take the small opportunities when you can.”</p><p> </p><p>Mason rolls his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Felix chuckles. “Your positivity is making Mason nauseous again, Natey.”</p><p> </p><p>“What about you, Detective?” Nate asks.</p><p> </p><p>Evan blinks up at him. “What about me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you miss patrolling? Or were you glad to give up these duties when you became detective?”</p><p> </p><p>Evan considers for a moment. “I’m more suited to working through evidence than being out and about as an officer, I think.”</p><p> </p><p>“At least you know what suits you best. Few people care to admit what their strengths really are,” Adam says. It catches him off guard, especially when Adam’s even tone betrays no sarcasm or intended slight.</p><p> </p><p>They split up with about an hour left in their patrol. Evan is walking down a sidestreet when the tattoo on his wrist starts up a dull throb in a one-two, one-two pattern. He glances down at it and swallows heavily. One of Haley’s friends had given him that tattoo, had pushed a little bit of magic into it as thanks for his help solving a witch’s dispute, and it has never failed him before. Now, alone in the dark, it taps out its message: <em> danger, danger </em>. He tries to calm himself but, really, he’s always been better suited to being a behind-the-scenes kind of Agent. He’s done plenty of fieldwork but he’s never been outright hunted before.</p><p> </p><p>He tries to make his way back toward where he’d last seen Unit Bravo, ambling at his normal pace so as not to arouse suspicion. The tattoo throbs a bit faster with each passing moment, and, in his pocket, his right hand keeps a sweaty grip on his emergency signal. He won’t use it— <em> can’t </em> use it— unless he wants to blow his cover. His hand tightens on it as he turns the corner and sees a shadowy figure. His heart jumps into his throat but after a tense moment he relaxes and huffs out a relieved laugh. “Mason.”</p><p> </p><p>“Who were you expecting?” the man asks with a sneer. “The bogeyman?”</p><p> </p><p>“Where are the others?”</p><p> </p><p>Mason leans back against the wall, folding his arms. “They’re going to meet us here.”</p><p> </p><p>Evan hums and stands at the edge of the street, feeling slightly safer with Mason at his back. The tattoo throbs more intensely and Evan tries to distract himself by subtly checking out the other agent.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you staring at?” he snaps.</p><p> </p><p>“You,” Evan says with a half smile.</p><p> </p><p>Mason huffs and shakes his head. “So, wanna tell me how someone with about as much experience as a ten year old got to be a detective?”</p><p> </p><p>Evan laughs and turns to fully face him. “Detective Reele was retiring. The police captain and the mayor decided I was best to replace her.”</p><p> </p><p>“So, you were only promoted out of what?” Mason smirks. “Necessity?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yep,” Evan says, voice popping on the last letter. “To make matters worse, I actually <em> was </em> the most qualified out of all of us.”</p><p> </p><p>Mason scoffs as Evan crosses the sidewalk and leans against the wall a short distance away from him. The conversation had almost distracted him but the tattoo goes one-two, <em> one-two </em> , <b> <em>one-two</em> </b>— </p><p> </p><p>Mason kicks off of the wall abruptly and launches forward, sneering. “We might not be alone.” He twists on his heel to look at the detective and says, “It’s you. Your scent. <em> Shit </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>In a flash, Mason grabs his shoulders and presses him into the doorway of a shop just as pain explodes in his head. Evan clutches his hair, knees buckling. Through the agony, he can vaguely hear Mason say, “Crap.” The pain lifts suddenly, leaving him swaying on his knees.</p><p> </p><p>“You all right?” Mason asks, sticking a hand in front of his face.</p><p> </p><p>Evan sucks in a breath and gives him a long blink before shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m fine now— just a weird headache.” He reaches out.</p><p> </p><p>Mason pulls him up with ease. “A weird headache?”</p><p> </p><p>Evan pats himself down, takes note of Mason’s weird tone of voice, and glances up at him. “Probably from lack of sleep.” <em> Or crazy intense pheromones. </em> Mason nods and turns away. Evan sways on his feet and stumbles but Mason snaps an arm around his waist before he can fall, pulling them together.</p><p> </p><p>Evan smirks up at him. “If you wanted to get close, you could’ve just asked.”</p><p> </p><p>Mason matches his expression, teeth sharp in the gloom. “Something I’ll be sure to remember.”</p><p> </p><p>“There you guys are!” Felix cuts in as he rounds the corner. He looks them over and grins. “Oh, I’m <em> so </em> glad I was the one sent to find you two.”</p><p> </p><p>Mason rolls his eyes and shoves Evan away, and the detective just laughs.</p><p> </p><p>“We got a call from Agent Greene,” Felix goes on. “The unit’s supposed to meet her.”</p><p> </p><p>Evan looks up at the clock. “Now?”</p><p> </p><p>He shrugs. “We work late.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright,” Evan says mildly. He knows all too well the pain of Agency hours. “I guess we should call it a night. At least try to get a couple hours of sleep before starting all over again tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then we’ll see you bright and early, Detective,” Felix chimes.</p><p> </p><p>Evan grins at him and walks off to find his car, gleefully listening in to Mason’s tsundere response to Felix’s teasing. <em> Well, well </em> , he thinks. <em> That one might be some fun </em>.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>When he walks into the office the next day, Felix teases, “Wow, did you manage to get any sleep, or is this your usual look?”</p><p> </p><p>Evan glares at him playfully but can’t keep his lips from twitching up. “I got three hours of sleep last night,” he says, holding up three fingers in emphasis. “Three hours! It would not be a good idea to mess with me today.”</p><p> </p><p>The agent holds his hands up in defeat, grinning. Evan hangs up his coat with a quiet laugh.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s on the agenda for today, Detective?” Nate asks.</p><p> </p><p>Evan opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted when Kate Hayes asks, “Is Detective Greene here?”</p><p> </p><p>He looks over his shoulder at her defeated posture, hunched by the front desk. Muttering something to Unit Bravo, he walks over to her immediately. When he’s in front of her he says softly, “Hey, Kate.”</p><p> </p><p>She looks up at him, gripping the strap of her bag so tightly that her knuckles have gone white. “Is there any news? I just… I don’t want him to be forgotten.”</p><p> </p><p>“Kate,” he says, stepping closer. He presses one hand against her arm hesitantly, unsure if the touch would be welcome. “He would never be forgotten. This case, and your son’s murder, are my only priorities.”</p><p> </p><p>She presses a hand over his, gripping it tightly. “I know. Thank you, Evan. I— I’m sorry. I—”</p><p> </p><p>Tears begin streaming down her face and she falls into his arms. He holds her closely, not even trying to make his embrace appear professional. They’ve known each other for too long to pretend at this moment. Beside him, Douglas frantically signals to Tina across the station, calling her over silently. Kate grabs Evan with desperate fingers, clutching him close. “I don’t know what to do with myself anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>Evan rocks her gently as Tina approaches, one hand gentle on the back of her head, the other solid and comforting on her back. His brain is screaming at him, repeating back the words she’d thrown at him only a few days before. He knows that he’s failed them both. He knows. Vaguely, he notices Nate exiting his office and leaving the building.</p><p> </p><p>“Kate, what are you doing here?” Tina asks when she reaches them.</p><p> </p><p>Kate loosens her grip on his arms, barely, and lifts her head. “I came… to ask about the case…”</p><p> </p><p>Tina sighs and offers a hand, which Kate takes. “Come on, Kate. Let’s get you something to drink.” Evan watches them go, aching.</p><p> </p><p>“Bloody hell!” Douglas says once they’re out of earshot, headed toward the kitchen. “I’m glad you gotta deal with that stuff and not me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t be an ass, Douglas,” Evan snaps. The kid shuts up and sits down as the detective turns on his heel and heads back into his office. With one foot in the door, he says, “Tina’s dealing with Kate. She came asking about the case’s progress.”</p><p> </p><p>Adam shakes his head and bites out, “We’d make more progress on it if you didn’t keep running off to speak to those people.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a very long drawn out moment. Evan freezes, his hand still resting loosely on the office door. He takes so long to respond that even Mason glances up. When Adam turns to look, he seems slightly guilty for what he’s said, but Evan doesn’t care. Evan feels twenty again, so <b> <em>fucking angry</em> </b>—</p><p> </p><p>What comes out of his mouth is, “What the fuck did you just say?” He doesn’t say it quietly or in a joking way. Felix’s eyebrows fly up.</p><p> </p><p>Adam looks shocked for a moment before he glowers with an intensity Evan’s yet to see. “You’re a detective, not a counsellor. Bringing emotions into your cases only hinders what you can achieve.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re grieving,” Evan bites out in a strangled voice. He wants to scream but he doesn’t want Kate to hear him. He’s so angry that he’s not even in his body anymore, instead looking over the entire office from somewhere above his own head. “This whole town is <em> fucking </em> grieving. I get that you don’t give a shit about that but maybe you should, considering the fact that it was <em> your </em> job to catch this guy a long time before it was mine. So why the <em> fuck </em> haven’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>He slams the door and leaves.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter brought to you by "Every Breath You Take" by Chase Holfelder [the patrol] and "Born Ready" by Zayde Wolf [the fight].</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Terrible Things</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He’s halfway to his car before he gets a text from Verda asking apologetically if he could stop by the hospital to speed up the results of the blood tests. He grits his teeth and all but throws himself into his car. He flips the radio to the heavy metal station from the city that he can sometimes catch, turns it up too loud once he’s on the long, winding road to the hospital, and screams along. When he finally parks, his shitty car wedged between two sports cars, he punches the radio, slams his head back against the headrest, and forces himself to breathe. It takes him almost twenty minutes to calm down enough to recognize that he probably shouldn’t have bucked his protective detail. Paranoia slithers down his spine and spikes his pulse.</p><p> </p><p>“God damn it,” he curses. He snatches up his phone and calls Mason, leaving a short message. “Mason, it’s Evan. I’m at the hospital to check in on the blood test results. I’ll come back to the station when I’m done.” He jabs the ‘end call’ button viciously with his thumb and grips the phone so tight that he can almost hear the metal creaking.</p><p> </p><p>After another moment, he runs a hand down his face. The anger drops to a simmer— manageable. He tucks his phone away, squeezes out of his car, and walks into the hospital, hoping against hope that no one else will be an asshole to him today.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m Detective Greene,” Evan says, praying that his tone is civil. “I’m here about the blood test results for the station.”</p><p> </p><p>The receptionist wrinkles his nose. “Our resources are valuable, Detective. The results of the living take priority over the dead.”</p><p> </p><p>Evan won’t be proud of himself later, but in the moment he plants a hand on the desk and leans over the man, casting his shadow. He’s not an excessively tall man, and he’s not especially built, but Corinne likes to say that he can throw around a certain <em> presence </em> when needed. His expression goes flat and hard. “The lives being taken are just as valuable.”</p><p> </p><p>The man blinks, swallows, and directs him to the office he’s there for. Before he can leave, the man offers him a tissue. At Evan’s look, he shrinks a bit and says, “Sir, your, uh, your hand is bleeding.”</p><p> </p><p>He glances down to see a small line of blood sliding down his finger from a busted knuckle, dangerously close to dripping onto the pristine white floor. He takes the tissue, presses it to his hand, and walks away. Although the corridors can be confusing since they all look the same, Evan finds the door he’s after quickly enough. He knocks and bumps it open with his hip without waiting for a reply, pulling the tissue away to see fresh blood well up. He grimaces.</p><p> </p><p>“‘Scuse me,” he says as he looks up. The blood tech across the room from him freezes, takes a deep breath, and shudders. The man swings around and lifts the goggles off of his head. When the two of them lock eyes, the doctor smiles. Time, it seems, freezes.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” the man says. Evan’s tattoo taps <b> <em>one-two</em> </b> , <b> <em>one-two</em> </b> . He doesn’t blink or breathe. He thinks his heart has stopped. “You’ve come to <em> me </em> this time.” The man’s eyes zero on in the bloody tissue against Evan’s hand and a glint of madness enters his gaze. There is a moment of stillness before time turns back on and speeds the fuck up.</p><p> </p><p>Evan throws himself back just as the man launches forward, one hand clawing to grab the detective’s arm. The man is grinning, eyeteeth sharp and shining under the fluorescent lights. When Evan sees that smile, seven years of nightmares that weren’t nightmares run through his mind, trying to paralyze him. He pivots on his heel and sprints down the hall, not sure if he’s imagining the displacement of air at his back as if the doctor has made another swipe until he hears a hand punch through the drywall. He can hear the man following him, knows that there’s no way in hell that he can outrun a vampire, but he keeps running. His frantic mind thinks for half a second of pressing the emergency button, but he left that in his <em> fucking </em> coat which is still in his <em> fucking office </em> . The doctor growls and lunges, and Evan’s barely able to throw himself around a corner in time. He tries to scramble to his feet but a hand grabs his ankle and <em> pulls </em>.</p><p> </p><p>He slams back onto the floor, forcing himself to roll over as the doctor looms. “A detective?” The doctor asks with interest, not even out of breath. Evan is wide-eyed on the floor, forgetting all of his training, desperately trying to drag himself back and away. His hand bumps a small brick holding open a supply closet door to his right and he grips it viciously, heart jackrabbiting in his throat.</p><p> </p><p>The vampire gives him a wide grin, all teeth. “Why don’t you—”</p><p> </p><p><em> WHAM </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Evan clocks him across the nose with the brick. The man howls in agony and clutches his face, blood dripping down his chin as he staggers back a few steps. Evan surges to his feet as the man looks up, looking murderous.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Evan,” the monster standing before him snarls. “You shouldn’t have <em> done that </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Before the doctor can move, Evan hurls the brick right at his face with a pitcher’s strength. His shoulder screams with the effort, even as he turns and sprints down the hall, but it gives him a moment’s head start as the man is forced to catch the brick and shatter it to pieces in his hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Evan’s panting heavily. He’s got a stitch in his side but he can barely recognize the pain over the panic surging through his veins.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll find you wherever you go, Evan,” the vampire calls. He’s fallen back and Evan knows it's because the man is toying with him. Because this is a <em> game </em> and he’s the prey. “I always do!”</p><p> </p><p>He rounds a corner too fast, slamming the side of his arm against a nameplate on a door. He can feel his shirt tear, his skin, hopes wildly that leaving blood behind will help him get away instead of stirring up a more intense blood frenzy. When he slams through the emergency exit and sprints to the safety of his car unimpeded, it seems that it was the former after all.</p><p> </p><p>He gasps frantically as he tears out of the parking lot, constantly checking his rearview mirror. At one point in time he actually flips on the lights so that no one will give him grief later for speeding. When he finally comes to a halt in front of the precinct, he wipes a hand across his face and realizes that he’s been crying. The doctor’s voice echoes around and around in his head, taunting him. The setting sun brings enough shadow from the station’s bulky architecture to hide him in the dark as he pulls himself together. He hyperventilates for a while before finally settling down. A voice in his head whispers, <em> Why don’t you relax? </em> Evan chokes down a sob, backs out of his parking spot, and drives to the closest bar.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>He’s at Chen’s, tucked away in a booth equidistant from the entrance and the exit while still having a line of sight on both. His drink is lukewarm, the ice having melted almost twenty minutes ago, and he’s mostly passing it across the table in a small semi-circle, back and forth, dragging it through the condensation it’s left behind on the old, graffitied wood. He hasn’t had a sip yet, even though he wants nothing more than to get blackout drunk like he used to when he was younger. That had always helped, when the nightmare would come back year after year and no one fucking believed him that it was <em> real </em>. His eyes are flicking back and forth between both doors which is why he gets a face full of Pissed Off Adam before four vampires are shoving themselves into the seats across from him.</p><p> </p><p>Caroline, one of the regular waitresses who is, in actuality, a selkie that Evan had helped out a few years prior after a home invasion, materializes. She gives Unit Bravo a harsh look but casts a soft eye over him, concerned. “What can I get you?”</p><p> </p><p>They order in quick succession. The instant Caroline is out of earshot, Adam asks, “How much have you had to drink?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not enough,” Evan responds. He chugs half of his drink with one long pull from the glass.</p><p> </p><p>“You could have told us you were going out,” Felix says. “I’d have found you sooner!”</p><p> </p><p>“Detective,” Nate starts in a measured tone. The agent’s gaze is fixed on his shoulder, the only lasting evidence of the chase aside from Evan’s general exhaustion. “What happened to your arm?”</p><p> </p><p>He sighs.</p><p> </p><p>Caroline reappears suddenly, faster than humanly possible, slamming Unit Bravo’s drinks onto the table. She glares at them again before turning to Evan. “You need anything, Ev? You’re looking awfully tired.”</p><p> </p><p>He sighs but gives her a small smile. “Just a long day, Carrie. That’s all. How are Mike and the kids?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, they’re just fine. Wondering when you’ll have time to come to dinner again. Thank you for the, uh—” she flicks her eyes over at the other side of the booth for a moment. “The <em> present </em> you got for Lucas, by the way. Haley’s friend does some great work.”</p><p> </p><p>Evan laughs politely but it comes out sounding ragged. “That she does. I can attest to the quality. Never had a problem with mine, even three years out.”</p><p> </p><p>She rests a gentle hand on his shoulder and gives it a motherly squeeze. “Let me know if you need anything, alright? We don’t need a repeat of you at twenty-one.” She shakes a finger at him, making him laugh for real and duck his head, before twirling hard enough to flare her dark hair behind her and walking off.</p><p> </p><p>“Ooh,” Felix says, eyes alight. “What happened when you turned twenty-one?”</p><p> </p><p>Evan tries to sneer but he doesn’t have the energy to even lift his lip. “Don’t remember much of it with how much I drank.” Mason smirks from the corner of the booth.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you really believe that getting drunk is helpful during a murder investigation?” Adam asks.</p><p> </p><p>Evan flicks a glance up at him and says, “Please, for the love of God, just drink.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>It’s weird to see Unit Bravo relax. They settle into the casual atmosphere with a confidence that speaks of no fear. Evan can’t relate, but he knows that he’s safer with them around. Even after the agents order a second round, Evan still nurses his half-full whiskey, now almost warm from the heat of his hand. He’s been mulling something over for the past half hour or so, interspersed with friendly conversation with the team. He’s still undecided by the time his phone lights up on the table. It’s a notification for, of all things, a game of Scrabble. The user, <em> meowmeownow! </em> , has requested a game with a starting word: <em> status </em> . He accepts. The game is clearly hacked since he has unlimited letters to choose from, but he slides the tiles around until they fit correctly on the board and spell out <em> alright </em> . A moment later, <em> meowmeownow! </em> plays <em> bravo </em>. He can hear the question mark in his head.</p><p> </p><p>He glances up to see Adam taking a small sip of his wine, savoring it with his eyes closed. Next to him, Nate is laughing as Felix attempts to rile Mason up, who only rolls his eyes and lights a cigarette. He quickly plays <em> tell </em> and hopes that Corinne can hear the question mark he’s appending in his own mind. There’s a pause, long enough that his screen turns off and he has to swipe his thumb over it to turn it back on.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you playing Scrabble? Instead of talking to <em> us </em>?” Felix asks in mock outrage. Evan laughs and looks back at his phone.</p><p> </p><p><em> Trust </em> , <em> meowmeownow! </em> plays. Evan plays <em> yes </em> . As Nate and Felix start arguing good-naturedly about Scrabble and ‘kids these days,’ <em> meowmeownow! </em> plays <em> ok </em> and ends the game. He gives a heavy sigh of relief and smiles down at his phone before tucking it away, the app already uninstalling itself. He sees a few glasses perilously close to being empty and says, “I’ll get the next round.”</p><p> </p><p>It takes him a few moments to notice Mason appearing at the bar next to him while he waves Chen down. When he does, he says, “Wow. Have you actually come to help me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t flatter yourself, handsome. Nate forced me over so you don’t spill any drinks.” The man leans casually against the bar as he talks, seeming more relaxed than Evan would have expected. </p><p> </p><p>Evan gives him a once over. “Didn’t think this would be your kind of scene.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not,” Mason says, gesturing over at their table. “But I go where they go.”</p><p> </p><p>Evan hums, sees something out of the corner of his eye, and grins. “Appreciative audience at four o'clock.”</p><p> </p><p>Mason rolls his head lazily to look at the group of young men obviously checking him out, the men becoming all smiles and laughter at his attention. Evan nudges a bowl of cherries and says, “Maybe you can knot a stalk with your tongue and impress them. They seem young enough to be into that.”</p><p> </p><p>Mason snorts, eyeing him without turning his head. “No wonder you’re so boring, if the best thing you can think of to do is knot it.”</p><p> </p><p>Evan smirks. “I’m happy to watch if you’ve got a better idea.”</p><p> </p><p>Mason quirks a brow before matching smiles. He moves a step closer and says, “Your assessment of those skills would be… pretty damn welcome.” He snags a cherry, pops it in his mouth with one more lingering sweep of his eyes, and saunters off. Evan, completely unashamed, leans back from the bar so he can watch his ass as he walks away.</p><p> </p><p>Once he’s returned to the booth and passed out drinks, Nate says, “You never told us how you got that.” He nods to Evan’s arm, just under the cuff of his t-shirt.</p><p> </p><p>Evan sits down, sighs, and says, “Yeah. About that.” Then he stops, sighs more heavily, and knocks back the rest of his drink.</p><p> </p><p>“You called Mason and said you went to the hospital. Was everything alright there?” Nate asks. His brow creases.</p><p> </p><p>Evan cracks his knuckles and then laces his fingers before leaning forward. “There’s a lot of classified information that I can’t tell you, but here’s what I’ve been given permission to pass on. I’ve been working for the Agency for about four years.” Felix’s jaw drops and Nate is visibly shocked. “The man we’re looking for is the blood tech at the hospital. Was, I guess. I’m sure he didn’t stick around after we met earlier. Also, I’m… probably going to need to erase that footage unless the Agency wants evidence of a frenzied vampire chasing me through the halls.” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.</p><p> </p><p>Mason stands, forcing his fingers roughly through his dark hair. “Shit.”</p><p> </p><p>His tattoo taps one-two and Evan casts a glance at it before looking back up to meet Adam’s gaze. “I know everything about the case since I’ve collated most of the information. I had to keep my cover, though, in the beginning. Hopefully you all understand.”</p><p> </p><p>Nate opens and closes his mouth for a moment before saying, “Yes, but— does your mother know?”</p><p> </p><p>Evan snorts. “I hadn’t even figured out we were working for the same place until she walked in with the four of you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. My. Gosh.” Felix squeals. “You’re like a secret agent!”</p><p> </p><p>“Shadow agent, technically,” Evan says drily. Felix makes an appreciative sound while the other three, to varying degrees, raise their eyebrows. “I answer, and exist, only to my handler. If anyone other than you guys knows or blows my cover, I’m dead a few times over.”</p><p> </p><p>Nate blinks and seems to come back to himself. He digs through his pocket before thrusting a picture under Evan’s nose. “Here. Is this the man you saw?”</p><p> </p><p>Evan very carefully doesn’t look down. “Nate,” he says. “I know it’s him. I recognized him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shit!” Mason says again before sitting down.</p><p> </p><p>Evan nods in sympathy before standing himself. His tattoo taps a bit more emphatically under his skin. “Well, this has been great but I’m thinking we should head outside now. Something’s coming and it shouldn’t get near civilians.” He tosses a handful of bills on the table and takes his leave, knowing that they’ll follow him sooner or later.</p><p> </p><p>“Where are you going?” Adam calls. He can hear them all walking quickly to catch up with him before he gets too far.</p><p> </p><p>Outside, Evan takes a deep breath. He shivers in his t-shirt, pulling his shoulders up around his ears to conserve heat. He turns and takes a few steps toward his car in the time it takes Unit Bravo to exit Chen’s. Just as they stumble (gracefully— fucking vampires) out onto the sidewalk, Evan’s tattoo gives a final one-two. A groan catches his attention, and he turns to see four figures stumble out of the alley ahead. Their bloated bodies and acrid stench make him wrinkle his nose and curse.</p><p> </p><p>“Fucking <em> thralls</em>,” he grumbles. Mason groans in agreement as the unit comes to stand on either side of him. The two groups stare for a long moment before a thrall lunges forward and all hell breaks loose.</p><p> </p><p>Mason runs forward in a flash, colliding with his attacker and forcing the thrall back into the alley. Unit Bravo is only a moment behind him, launching themselves into the action. Evan grimaces and pats quickly at his belt but realizes that his taser is in the glovebox of his car. He casts a worried eye over the scene, judging whether or not he can and should make a break to grab it before a familiar voice behind him asks, “Detective?”</p><p> </p><p>He whips around to see <em> Douglas </em> of all people, half-drunk and swaying but fully focused on the scuffle happening in the alley. Evan scowls and opens his mouth to yell before a groan catches both of their attention.</p><p> </p><p>“Bring Evan. Not kill. Bring Evan. Not kill,” the man repeats over and over as he lurches toward them.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, Detective?” Douglas asks in a high voice, shuffling backward hesitantly.</p><p> </p><p>The thrall’s milky eyes roll in his head. “Kill witnesses.”</p><p> </p><p>He lunges for the kid but Evan throws himself in between them. “Doug, you need to run.”</p><p> </p><p>“But what about—”</p><p> </p><p>“Run!” he yells. Douglas takes off in the opposite direction, one sob echoing back as he goes. When Evan looks back, the thrall’s right in front of him. He has enough time to say “<em> shit </em>” before the man’s hand wraps around his throat like a vice, lifting him from his feet and slamming him against the wall.</p><p> </p><p>“Not kill,” the man chants.</p><p> </p><p>Evan chokes, finger’s clawing at the man’s hand, feet kicking against the brick in a desperate attempt to get a foothold. Darkness blurs at the edges of his vision just before he jabs his thumbs into the man’s eyes. He’s dropped immediately, wheezing and clutching his throat as the thrall lurches back and wails in pain, clutching his face. Evan coughs raggedly and stumbles to his feet. They’re right at the mouth of the alley— someone’s going to stumble on them eventually from the main road or hear them over the music in the bar. He flicks his eyes around and runs to his car.</p><p> </p><p>Just as he’s jimmying open his door, Mason is slammed against the passenger’s side and slides down the door. “I just got the other dent fixed!” Evan hisses, finally yanking the door open.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yeah, ‘cause your car is the thing I’m worried about most right now,” the other man snarks back. One bloated hand grabs him by the collar and yanks him back into the fight.</p><p> </p><p>“Cover your ears!” Evan shouts. He dials the volume up and slams the sirens on. The thralls drop immediately, yelling out against the noise and covering their ears. Unit Bravo is wincing, hands clamped over their ears, but Mason is grimacing so intensely that Evan flicks the sirens off after only a few seconds.</p><p> </p><p>“Nice thinking, Detective,” Felix calls into the sudden silence. The four of them easily knock out the four thralls and Evan slams his door, moves around his car, and comes to stand with them.</p><p> </p><p>“I hate thralls,” Mason mutters. He lights a cigarette and shoves the toe of his boot into the ribs of one of the men on the ground. Evan snorts in agreement.</p><p> </p><p>“Bum a smoke?” he asks, surprised when Mason just tosses his pack and lighter over. He lights his own cigarette and takes a long pull, savoring the rush of nicotine as the smoke burns down his throat and into his lungs.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you say what the blood tech’s name was?” Felix asks from where he’s bent over one of the men.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh,” Evan casts his mind back to the last time Verda had mentioned the man. “Murphy, I think? Ethan Murphy.”</p><p> </p><p>Felix stands, holding a driver’s license. “Well, here’s the real Ethan Murphy. Our murderer must have put the real Murphy under his control when he took his place.”</p><p> </p><p>“Poor bastard,” Evan says, exhaling heavily. “You guys all right?”</p><p> </p><p>Adam turns to face him, scratches visibly healing, just as Mason says, “Wasn’t there another one of these guys?”</p><p> </p><p>Evan jerks his head back to the last place he’d seen the thrall who was strangling him just in time for a solid mass to crack across the top of his head. He falls down onto the pavement, head slamming into the bricks. He hears a few snatches of shouting before he blacks out.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter brought to you by "Terrible Things" by Brick + Mortar [the hospital], "blankets" by fantompower [the bar], and "Voice of Memphis" by Negro Terror [the fight]!</p><p>Also, I absolutely made sure that the Scrabble scene worked with a game board. I'm committed to accuracy (sometimes)!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Something to Hide</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>My fucking cigarette</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Evan thinks the moment he claws his way back to consciousness. He frowns against the aching beat in his head, squinting his eyes open in the too-bright room. He’s surrounded by Unit Bravo and—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mum?” he rasps. Rebecca Greene smiles at him. “Ugh, my head.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shuffles upright, even as Nate places a hand on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t try to move yet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s fine,” Mason says, shaking his head dismissively. Since he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> fine, he sits up anyway, passing one hand over his brow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re damn lucky he is,” Rebecca growls, turning her head to glare at him. Evan’s eyes go wide for a moment before he makes eye contact with Mason and grins. The other man sneers back just as Rebecca turns back to face him, and he schools his expression into something wide-eyed and confused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you remember what happened?” Adam asks, stepping forward to stand at the edge of his bed. Evan wouldn’t expect him to understand tact usually, but the man clearly hasn’t said anything to Rebecca yet. The vampire gives an almost imperceptible nod, implying that he won’t now, either.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There was a fight?” Evan says. He forces himself to look surprised. “You— you healed! So— explain.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What you saw was real,” Rebecca says after a long moment. With Herculean strength, Evan suppresses an eye roll.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason lights a cigarette and attempts to sink further into the wall, scowling in Evan’s general direction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your identity is known, now. The Agency has given you clearance to a certain level and…” she says quietly. “You need to be informed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan arches a brow. “So, someone’s finally going to tell me what’s going on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rebecca sighs. “Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>After Rebecca and Evan leave to tour the facility, Unit Bravo is summoned by a messenger. The centaur, dressed in muted, Agency colors, leads them to a wing of offices. Only one door is open and they share concerned looks amongst themselves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why is the Director here?” Mason hisses almost silently. He, Nate, and Felix all look to Adam who only shrugs and assumes his ‘facing the music’ stance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you think we’re in trouble?” Felix half-heartedly tries to joke. His delivery falls flat and Adam scowls at the floor as they enter the Director’s office. Three of them come to stand in front of her desk while Mason leans against the doorframe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Unit Bravo,” Director Gossard says, tone softened somewhat by her French accent. She stands tall behind her desk, dark skin and graying hair standing out vibrantly against the white walls. When she looks up at them briefly, as if to confirm that all four of them are present, the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth stand out under the fluorescent lighting. “You broke cover.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thralls attempted to capture the Detective, ma’am,” Adam says, rigid as a soldier. “We were forced to subdue them to prevent him or other civilians from coming to harm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And yet he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> come to harm, no?” she says. Adam’s jaw tightens. She looks back to the file in her hand, shifting on her feet. “And how is the Detective doing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He is currently touring the facility with his mother, Agent Greene,” Nate answers softly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Madam Director,” Felix says abruptly. “We did our best to keep Ev— uh, Detective Greene in the dark. The circumstances—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Should we not be able to account for and adapt to circumstances?” the Director asks mildly, looking up again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix is quiet for a moment before giving a subdued, “Yes, ma’am.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They wait in silence until the Director speaks again. “I am not angry with you, Unit Bravo. You have performed admirably and I believe that you did well in maintaining your cover for as long as you did. The man we are after is a variable we cannot always predict.” She closes the file and sets it gently on her desk. “That being said, we </span>
  <em>
    <span>must</span>
  </em>
  <span> protect Evan Greene from harm. We owe this to him, to his mother, and to the people this murderer would harm with the power of the Detective’s blood.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They all nod in agreement and the Director sighs softly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did Detective Greene tell you how he was able to determine that Murphy is the man we’re after?” She asks in a calm tone. “It is still needed for the file.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Murphy’s reaction at the hospital, primarily. He also said that he recognized him,” Nate says in a subdued manner. Next to him, Felix chews on his lip, clearly trying to hold back words. “Had you given him the file beforehand?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Director furrows her brow minutely. “No, I—” She pauses for a moment, short enough for a human to miss but a neon sign for the four vampires in the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ma’am?” Adam asks. His formerly stony visage is creased in concern.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are dismissed, Unit Bravo,” she says with a frown. She stares off into space and taps one finger against her lips. “Keep an eye on our friend, hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Evan thinks he’s done a pretty bang on job of acting surprised and ooh-ing and aah-ing during their tour around the facility. To be fair, he doesn’t have to hide his interest in the place since he’s never actually been here. He also doesn’t have to fake his reaction in the holding area. Rebecca’s words from outside of the training room stick in his craw.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I won’t lose you,” she says, like she owns him, like she’s put in </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> effort in the past fourteen years aside from bailing him out once. Evan barely holds back a scoff but doesn’t shake off her gentle hands. He’s irritated with himself that he can’t settle on his feelings for her, even in the midst of everything that’s happening. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Feelings are stupid</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he grouses in his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she leaves him standing just outside of the common room, he watches her go with mixed feelings. Still, she had seemed more relaxed knowing that he knows. When she turns the corner, their eyes catch. She’s clearly surprised that he’s still watching. After a moment, he raises one hand in a wave and turns away. He doesn’t linger to watch her expression.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The moment he steps inside, four sets of eyes latch onto him immediately. He eases the door until it’s mostly closed and then leans against the wall next to it. They’re all quiet for a few beats and he finds himself almost… nervous? Few people have ever found out about his Agency involvement </span>
  <em>
    <span>after</span>
  </em>
  <span> getting to know him and, if he’s being totally honest, he likes Unit Bravo. He could even see himself coming to like Adam someday. Maybe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So,” he says after no one else speaks. “Are you guys gonna be weird about this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Weird</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Felix asks from his comfortable sprawl in an armchair. “This is exciting! No more trying to keep things from you, no more secrets— well, except for the one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Pretty big secret,” Mason snorts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan’s mouth pulls down at the corners. “I’m sorry to put you in this position. I just…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pauses for long enough that Nate crosses the room and presses a hand against his shoulder. “Detective?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighs. “I trust the four of you. And I need someone in my corner with this case.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does the Agency not provide you with support in your fieldwork?” Adam asks, looking genuinely concerned. Even Felix sits forward a bit, looking uncharacteristically serious.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan blinks up at him and laughs, an ugly sound. “They’d lose more if something went wrong, in that case. If it’s just me, it’s only one life.” In the corner, Mason nods.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nate’s hand tightens. In a strangled voice he says, “That’s—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan waves a hand dismissively. “It’s the way it should be. Less at stake. Plus, I’m usually a go-between or a tech guy. I’m rarely, you know, </span>
  <em>
    <span>in</span>
  </em>
  <span> the field.” He shoots Mason a mischievous look. “I’ve gotten more action with you guys than I have in a long time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason pulls on his cigarette, the corner of his mouth curling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix leans forward. “So, spill! What—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a short knock on the door before it’s pushed open. Everyone stiffens in paranoia except for Evan, who’d pretty much timed out exactly when Corinne’s little helper would arrive. A woman pokes her head in and says, “Your room is ready, Detective Greene.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan nods and moves to follow her, looking up as Nate holds the door for him. The taller man leans in a bit and says, “Please don’t blame your mother for how all of this went down. I know her well enough to know that there must have been times when it’s killed her not to tell you about all of this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nate,” Evan sighs. Against his will, his tone of voice is tinged with exasperated affection. “That’s not why we are the way we are. Give it time.” He pats the guy on the arm and follows the agent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He passes out as soon as his head hits the pillow.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>When Rebecca asks him to consider testing, Evan freezes. There’s a long moment where he thinks frantically, circling like a dog around the maze of his mind. He prays that he looks contemplative and not panicked. Will he be suspicious if he says no? Will it blow his cover? What if it gets leaked, like Corinne worries is happening with other Agency data? Reluctantly, he agrees, figuring that, if nothing else, he’ll learn enough to find additional ways to protect himself in the future.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He spends longer at the base than he’d like, even with the occasional heavy flirting with Mason to buck up his spirits. Their discussion of the test results does little to put him at ease— returning to the station, however, does.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He walks in like he’d never left, breathing in the overwhelming scent of cheap furniture polish, coffee, and dust. Even Douglas is just as he’d left him, hunched over the desk and staring at his phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan opens his mouth to yell at the kid for playing Candy Crush before their eyes meet and Douglas all but </span>
  <em>
    <span>leaps</span>
  </em>
  <span> out of his chair. After an awkward conversation, he successfully dodges the newfound hero worship and ducks into his office with a confused group of vampires.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We need to go on the offensive with Murphy,” Adam says once the door is closed. “He’ll be desperate to find you now. Especially because he must know that the Agency is on his tail.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nate nods. “Yes, the general plan is to find him before he finds you, Detective.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan doesn’t say what he’s thinking, that Murphy found him for seven years in a row and that he’ll easily do it again. That would imply a lack of trust and Evan would kind of like to have some Agency friends in real life. “Might be easier said than done.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nate frowns. “Unfortunately, I think you may be right. Still, it’s better than waiting around for him to send his thralls again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll start at the hospital, as Agent Greene suggested,” Adam says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix pauses in attempting to balance his chair. Evan still doesn’t mention that the legs are different lengths. “You really think we’ll find anything there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan hums. “Must be some reason he impersonated a blood tech. Might still be something there if he hasn’t gone back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone nods except Mason, who lights a cigarette. Evan glances over, hungry for more than one thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Evan parks at the hospital but he doesn’t get out of his car. He knows, logically, that Murphy’s not there. He’s probably hiding in some hole in town. He’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He grips the wheel a little tighter before forcing himself up and out. He takes a breath of the spring air and hears two soft sets of footsteps, practically silent to untrained ears. His shoulders relax.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are we going to be here long?” Mason asks as the two stride forward.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nate shakes his head. “As long as it takes to get the job done.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason nods in agreement, though he seems resigned, and they make their way toward the blood tech’s office. The receptionist briefly looks up and then back down just as quickly, avoiding the detective’s gaze. Evan looks away just as quickly, guilt sitting heavily in his stomach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here we are,” he says once they round the corner. His fingers twitch momentarily as if they’d like to be holding a brick for safety, but he forces them to relax. He’s not sure what his heart’s doing but the two vampires are polite enough not to mention it. Or uncaring, in Mason’s case.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Detective, what exactly happened here?” Nate asks. When Evan glances over he can see a pretty big hole in the wall where Murphy’s fist must have punched through, hastily covered with a thin plastic sheet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He chased, I ran?” Evan says. “I did break his nose, though, which was pretty satisfying.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a sound from just behind him that might be a snicker, but when he turns Mason is straight-faced and Nate just looks concerned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It reeks of him,” Mason says, nose wrinkled. He reaches for his pack of smokes but crosses his arms instead with an eye roll when Nate shoots him a disappointed look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to wait out here?” Nate asks. “It may be worse inside.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason nods and settles against the wall. “Thanks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll try and make it quick,” Evan says. Mason glances up in surprise and nods. Evan looks at the door, sighs, and turns the handle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The place is trashed enough that Evan honestly doesn’t think he’ll be able to help where Nate has keener senses— even the Agency techs could get more out of the room than him. He tells Nate he’ll wait outside and steps back into the hall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason frowns over at him when the door closes. “What are you doing out here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I missed your delightful company, of course,” Evan smirks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason scoffs. “Well, I’m not looking for yours, so maybe you should just head back in.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can’t until Nate’s done,” he says. “Seems you and I have some time to kill.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason looks over out of the corner of his eye. In one smooth motion, he pushes off of the wall and comes to hover just in front of him. “Oh, really?” he smirks. “Any suggestions?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan lounges back against the door, letting his head loll. Mason’s gaze snaps to his bared neck, and he grins. “I can think of a few things.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason’s eyes glimmer, alight. He steps close, bracing himself against the door with one forearm above Evan’s head and one hand a hairsbreadth from his neck, thumb almost brushing his skin. “Only a few?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan flicks his tongue across his lower lip and watches Mason’s eyes follow the action. “I’m sure I could come up with some more.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason grins and leans forward, his long hair falling around them like a curtain, keeping the world out. “You want to take this conversation somewhere a little more private, Detective?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door at his back swings open abruptly. An embarrassingly started noise crawls out of his throat as he starts to fall, but Mason grabs his arm and yanks him back to his feet, so close that their chests are almost touching. “No need to fall for me quite so hard, handsome.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan grins up at him before turning to face the man waiting in the doorway with lips pursed like a disappointed parent. His voice is full of suppressed laughter when he says, “Oh, hey, Nate. Did you need something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>As the five of them climb the steps to his apartment, he says, “Sorry in advance but it’ll be pretty cozy in there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We will ensure your safety no matter the location,” Adam says confidently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan snickers. “We’ll see if you still feel that way when you don’t have any elbow room.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s this?” Felix asks when they get to his door. He’s pointing at an oddly shaped whorl in the wood. Adam squints at it for a moment before relaxing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Minor alert spell,” the Detective says. He runs an affectionate hand over it. “Lets me know if someone’s in here that isn’t supposed to be. One of Haley’s friends did it for me as a favor.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Haley from the bakery?” Nate asks, mildly surprised. “Is she—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan unlocks the door and lets them inside. “Nah, normal as they come. She’s adopted though. Her brother—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“WHO DARES TO SPEAK OF HALEY, SISTER OF DANIEL—” The voice booms once the door closes, rattling the windows. Unit Bravo launches forward, bodies tensed and ready for a fight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan rolls his eyes. “Danny, shut the hell up and quit being a dick. Get your spectral ass out here and say hello!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re no fun,” Danny scoffs as he materializes, lounging back like he’s in a beach chair four feet above the ground. He’s mostly transparent, with barely any color showing through from his original form. His styled hair and scruffy beard are a faded brown, matching the shades he’s got on. “I never get to scare anyone anymore.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan snorts, walking around the confused vampires blocking him from the apartment. “What, Haley hasn’t brought anyone home lately?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, no! It’s all ‘Danny, cut it out,’ ‘Danny, this one’s nice, I swear.’ They’re never nice!” The ghost says emphatically, waving his arms. Evan nods in sympathy, ignoring the baffled look on Nate’s face. “Anyway, who’re these guys?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Danny, this is Unit Bravo: Nate, Adam, Felix, and Mason. Guys, this is my friend Daniel West. He’s Haley’s brother, former werewolf, current ghost.” He points meaningfully at Danny, the group, and back. “Everyone be nice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Man!” Felix says, already relaxing. “If we’d just come to your apartment earlier, we could have been talking about this ages ago!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Danny casts an eye over the four vampires. “Okay, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> are they here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan winces. “Well… you know that murderer?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Danny gives him an unimpressed look, floating out of the way as Felix wanders off to explore the apartment. “I am aware of the murderer, yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s kind of, uh, wanting to kidnap me for my blood?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Danny sits up in midair and presses his hands to his face for a moment before holding them out in supplication, demanding, “Then </span>
  <em>
    <span>why do you keep going out</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Adam smirks briefly, as if glad to have found an ally. Nate watches the back and forth with increasing amusement. Mason, on the other hand, glowers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan sighs. “Look. Unit Bravo’s gonna keep me safe, okay? You don’t need to worry about me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Danny harrumphs and looks the group over suspiciously as they slowly wander in. “Whatever. I’m gonna go possess my brother’s XBOX until these losers head out. Don’t die.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan snorts as Danny vanishes with a sarcastic “</span>
  <em>
    <span>ooooooooh</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” complete with wiggling fingers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So,” Felix says, drawing the word out with a grin. “Ghost friend, huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He laughs. “Good</span>
  <em>
    <span> night</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before Evan heads off to bed, he locks eyes with Mason. The man, almost disappearing against the dark walls, meets his eye, licks his upper lip, and smirks. Evan grins back, all teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>A week later, Evan and Nate are sitting in Haley’s bakery enjoying an early breakfast. Evan breathes in the smell of freshly-baked bread and coffee, laughing softly when Nate makes kissy noises at a patron’s dog as they leave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How have you been finding it?” Nate asks with a rueful glance. “We’ve barely left your side for the past week— not at work or home. I’m worried we might be pushing our welcome.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah,” Evan laughs. “I’m grateful for everyone’s help. At least I could kick you guys out if I wanted. Danny, on the other hand…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nate chuckles, even more so when Evan’s coffee mug rattles ominously on the table. “It’s been good for us to work with you, Detective. The team seems to have awoken since you’ve been around— a waking up we’ve needed to have kicked into us for some time now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan raises an eyebrow but the front door chimes before he can think to ask, opening to allow the rest of the Unit to meander in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, we were just talking about you,” Nate says with a smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All good things I hope?” Felix asks. Evan fakes a grimace and the other man squawks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” he asks Adam. The man is more tense than usual.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t like the quiet,” the unit leader says. “We haven’t heard a thing from or about Murphy for over a week. I cannot believe he’s simply sitting around doing nothing now that he knows who you are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan’s hand twitches in what is quickly becoming a nervous tic. Mason’s gaze lands on the movement for a second before going back to lazily scanning the bakery. “At least it means the town’s been safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“True,” Adam says. His giant shoulders relax incrementally. “That’s been one less worry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Watch it, Adam, your soft side is showing,” Felix snickers. Adam rolls his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Ev,” Haley says as she walks over. “Can I get you or your friends anything?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix leans forward with a charming grin. “What are you offering?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Haley looks him over, exchanges an amused look with Evan, and says, “Sorry, kiddo. I’m afraid I don’t play for your team. Just ask Evan here.” She tries to ruffle his hair but he swats her hands away good-naturedly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If anything, that interests Felix even more. “Do tell!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He was a very good beard,” Haley says primly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aw, Haley,” Evan croons up at her. She snorts and pushes his face away as he laughs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re just fine, thank you,” Nate says kindly and he kicks Felix in the shin under the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, younger brothers,” she snickers. She pats Evan on the shoulder and heads back around the counter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We should check on the thralls,” Mason says. Evan agrees and happily, at Mason’s annoyance, decides to join.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter brought to you by "Something to Hide" by No More Kings [the Agency], "Town of Strangers" by BOKKA, and "Everything Will Be Better in the Morning" by Rizzle Kicks [the apartment]!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Massacre, The New American Dream</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s weird having Rebecca in his apartment. He watches her flutter around his bedroom, fixing his duvet and generally trying to look around while not seeming like a snoop. When she sits on his bed, gingerly, he can tell she feels somewhat uncomfortable as well. It makes something settle a bit in his chest, knowing that this is uncharted territory for them both. Rain flicks against his bedroom window, pinging violently off of the glass.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How I’m doing?” he repeats, shaking himself out of his reverie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her mouth creases in a frown. “You’ve had a lot to handle lately. We’re all concerned about how you’re doing now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “I’m worried for the town. Murphy has no trouble hurting others to get what he wants. The idea that he might use other people to get to me…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a good person to think of others before yourself,” she says, standing suddenly. She moves to the door, as if to leave, before pausing. “You are my son, and I love you. If anything happened…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan takes a moment to shove down the instinctual anger, long enough for her to shake her head and turn to leave. “Mum. Thanks for checking on me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rebecca looks back with an expression he hasn’t seen in almost fifteen years— so familiar and comforting that it helps his next breath come a little easier. When she walks out, he turns to the window and shoves it open, letting the rain fall in, breathing in the stormy air. His mind briefly wanders to Mason and the rest of Unit Bravo as he stares out over the stretch of Wayhaven that lives outside of his window. A moment later, familiar footsteps stride in. He smiles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s a door for a reason, y’know. I could’ve been naked.” He turns in time to see Mason smirk and run his eyes slowly up and down his figure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In which case,” the man says. “I’d have been damn glad not to have knocked.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan snickers. “Did you need something?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Agent Greene wanted you to know that the guys at the lab might be able to find out what Murphy wants from those slides found at the hospital.” He says, sauntering forward and throwing himself into the chair next to the dresser. “We could use that time for other things…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” Evan asks. His smile thins out into a smirk, his body turning to face Mason’s relaxed figure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason spreads his legs, lounging back. “I mean, Agent Greene’s gonna be a while. So, you wanna take me up on that offer?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan moves to stand directly in front of him, his hips brushing the other man’s knees. Leaning down just a bit, he asks, “You really think I’m gonna make it that easy for you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason stands, running one hand over Evan’s chest before resting just over his heart. “I’m all for playing, Detective, but if we’re gonna do this, let’s do it, yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan peers up at him through his eyelashes, opens his mouth to respond, and—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>One-two</em>
  </b>
  <span>, </span>
  <b>
    <em>one-two-one-two-one-two</em>
  </b>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A knock at the door. Felix says, “I’ll get it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan shouts, “No!” He lunges for his bedroom door but he’s slow and stupidly human.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A click, a pop, and Felix shouts, “DMB! Thralls!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s shouting from the living room but his mother’s voice cuts through it all. “Cover your mouths! Try not to let it enter your system!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit!” Mason swears as they scramble to the doorway, watching blood-red smoke crawl toward them. He jerks back, visibly afraid.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Evan, where are you?” Rebecca calls. Her hand pushes its way out of the cloud and he and Mason both grab it and haul her out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The others?” Mason asks, eyes frantically moving between Rebecca’s face and the red void behind her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The DMB got them, but they’re alive.” She says with a hard expression. “I will hold the thralls back and try to help the others. You have to get my son out of here!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The smoke crawls closer and they all skitter back from it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mum,” Evan shouts over the noise of fighting in the living room. “I’m not leaving you!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiles briefly and grabs his hand. “You have to. I won’t let Murphy hurt you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I can help! I—” the words stick in his throat. He can’t help and he knows it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looks past him to Mason and says, “Keep him safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She disappears back into the smoke. Evan lunges after her but Mason grabs him and wrestles him toward the window. “God damn it, Mason, let me go!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Move it!” the vampire yells, all but shoving him onto the fire escape. Evan grits his teeth and clatters down toward the first floor, worry like a living monster inside of his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They run through the pouring rain toward the parking lot, both of them casting more than one glance back. “Did the DMB get you?” Evan asks hoarsely. He almost has to yell over the rain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter right now. Where’s your car?” Mason shouts back. Evan squints across the parking lot, pointing a finger at his silver clunker. Mason grabs him and they speed off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You took your time,” a voice echoes through the rain. Evan’s breath catches in his throat, heart close to exploding out of his chest. Mason’s hand on his arm tightens. Murphy steps out from behind his car, smiling in the dark. His soaked clothes and wet hair are plastered to his body but he pays them no mind, his feral gaze locking onto Evan’s in the gloom. “So good to see you again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason snarls and moves to stand between them, body tense. A group of thralls stumble out to flank Murphy, groaning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your friend won’t help you, you know,” the man says mildly, futzing with his tie so it lays straight. “No one ever helps you, do they? No one ever believes you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan stumbles half a step back, breath rushing in and out of his lungs too fast. Mason whips one arm out to steady him before returning his full attention to the threat in front of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good,” the man purrs. “You always did taste better when you were afraid.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason stiffens at the comment. Murphy tells the thralls, “Bring the Detective to me. Kill the other one.” His eyes don’t leave Evan’s as the thralls lurch forward. Mason’s gaze darts between the thralls and Evan’s face, frozen in a mask of horror that speaks to more than just the fight at hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a growl, the man flashes forward, his foot cracking across a thrall’s jaw and sending him stumbling to the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Murphy laughs as Mason turns to face his next opponent. “Oh, it must have been you I sensed all that time ago. “Strong enough to resist the effects of the DMB, eh? They must keep you on a tight leash at the Agency.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason sneers, clearly flagging. Evan shakes himself and shouts, “Mason, your phone!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ducking a punch and using the overextended arm to hurl a thrall over his shoulder, Mason scrunches his face. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need your phone!” Evan hollers. With a growl of annoyance, he shoves back a thrall and launches his phone right toward Evan’s face. The detective barely catches it in time to avoid getting a mouth full of plastic, but he easily flicks through the menu to bring up the camera and set a timer. Right before he launches the phone towards the fight, he yells, “Cover your eyes!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason leaps back and twists so his back protects him from the strobe effect of the flash, lighting up the parking lot wildly. The thralls moan in pain but don’t take long to surge back toward Mason, flailing wildly in the hopes of hitting something. Murphy paces on the other side of the thralls, as smoothly as a shark in the water, waiting. As he and Evan eventually get pushed back by the thralls, Mason frowns over at him and says, “You have to run.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Evan asks incredulously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can hold them off or stop him from getting you. I can’t do both.” His voice is strained in the dark, blocking Evan’s body behind him even as he grows weak from exhaustion. “You need to run. It’s the only way to protect you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t make me leave you here,” Evan forces out of his throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll do whatever it takes to get you out of here,” the vampire snaps back. His eyes are still on the thralls, lurching ever forward. “We’re all risking our lives to save yours. If you waste that by staying here then I’ll hand you over to Murphy myself!” He turns halfway and says, “You have to go.” It’s not a command, but a plea.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan swallows. “I—” His tattoo throbs unrelentingly only a second before arms wrap around him like a vice and a foot strikes Mason in his shoulder, sending him sprawling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is cozy,” Murphy purrs. Evan’s body turns to a block of ice. They’re pressed together back to front, his arms crushed against his side. He thinks distantly that he’s being held tight enough for it to hurt, but he can’t feel anything at the moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason scrambles up, scowling, and plants his feet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I wouldn’t,” Murphy warns. “You’ve been most impressive, but you might want to hold back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been through worse than this,” Mason snarls, his voice tinged in exhaustion. His gaze only wavers from Murphy’s face once, when it darts down to Evan’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you have,” Murphy says. “But I was thinking more of the detective here. I don’t need him fully functional, after all. Snap the spine in the right place and he’ll be much less fuss for me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason’s jaw tightens, his glare almost corporeal through the rain. It shakes Evan out of the fog of his horror and, suddenly aware of every point of contact between himself and Murphy, he slams his head back against the murderer’s face. The man drops him with a swear. Evan lands on his feet and lunges forward, one hand reaching toward Mason. The moment stretches as Mason’s eyes widen minutely and he shifts forward, one hand reaching out to pull Evan to safety—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s caught around the throat, a rough hand almost crushing his trachea. Murphy growls, “That was impolite, Detective,” before hurling him toward a group of thralls. The thralls grasp at his kicking limbs as he thrashes, growls and shouts punching out of his mouth. “For god’s sake, don’t let him go,” he orders.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Murphy shakes his head and wipes a dribble of blood away. Mason’s eyes follow the action but he remains perfectly still. “Now then,” Murphy says. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>lunges</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason chokes as Murphy slams a syringe into his neck, gasping for breath and stumbling. He falls to one knee, splashing down onto the tarmac. Murphy laughs and turns away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” Evan screams. He fights with renewed energy against the thralls, managing to rip one arm out of their grip and punch another in the face, desperate to get to— “Mason!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s on all fours now, back heaving with the effort to draw breath. He lifts his head weakly as one swollen hand slams against Evan’s face. The detective shakes off the blow and tries to plant his feet on the wet pavement, but they slip. The thralls drag him away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mason!” he shouts one last time as a syringe jabs into his own neck. He lets out a strangled cry and watches as Mason stares for a long moment before collapsing. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mason!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes remain glued on the vampire’s crumpled form as he’s hauled off, as the drug courses through his veins, as his own eyes fall shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Mason opens his eyes in increments. Rain pounds down on his aching body, his oversensitive skin. He rolls slightly, brain foggy, before he surges upward, swaying and almost collapsing again. He knows he won’t find anyone left, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> that Murphy hauled the Detective off, but he still looks. He peers desperately through the rain as he lurches to his feet, muscles waking up slowly and out of order. He can still hear his own name being ripped from the other man’s throat, his fight to break free so he could reach him. The sounds echo in his mind. He stands there, barely staying on his feet, before he turns robotically toward the apartment building. He climbs the steps mechanically, one shoulder pressed against the wall in support, leaving a dripping streak behind him. When he finally staggers through the front door of the Detective’s apartment, he shrugs off Nate and Adam’s attempts to help.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” Nate exclaims. His eyes trace over the healing wounds that litter Mason’s arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rebecca steps forward. “Where’s Evan?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The silence that covers the room mocks him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter brought to you by "Marlboro" by Prince of Falls [leaving Rebecca], "Massacre, The New American Dream" by Palaye Royale [the fight], and "This Land - Single Version" by Gary Clark Jr. [the aftermath]!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Hunter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><span>When Evan slowly wakes to find himself strapped down, it feels almost as if the dreams had never stopped. The vampire masquerading as Murphy smiles at him and Evan— Evan </span><em><span>fucking</span></em> <em><span>freezes</span></em><span>. It’s like he’s thirteen all over again, watching a shadow become a man become a monster for the first time. In a moment of childlike dependence, he wants to call Rebecca and have her believe him just this once.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello again, Evan,” Murphy says. “It’s been some time since we last met like this, wouldn’t you say?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan’s heart hammers in his throat and Murphy gives a shark-toothed grin, one so familiar that Evan only refrains from vomiting due to the absolutely paralyzing fear coursing through his body. The man shifts forward, </span>
  <em>
    <span>looming</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Why don’t you relax?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thrashes against his bonds suddenly, gripped by a manic need to get out. Murphy watches him struggle with that same grin on his face, his eyes gleaming in the half dark of the squalid room. Evan pants in exhaustion as his struggles grow weaker and weaker until he’s barely tugging on the straps holding him down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Feel better?” Murphy asks with a smirk. He circles closer. “Now that’s out of your system, we can get on to the real task.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan hyperventilates, desperately trying to control his breath and calm down enough to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but the man standing over him is almost a decade’s worth of nightmares come to life. His vocal cords are strangled, the only sounds coming out of his mouth being pathetic whimpers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good boy,” Murphy purrs. “This will go so much smoother if you keep quiet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>When Evan wakes again, he’s in agony. Every muscle, every cell, is screaming. His eyes crack open, just barely, enough for Murphy to notice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re alive!” Murphy crows. One rough hand shoves Evan’s matted hair off of his sweaty forehead. He barely has the energy to shiver. “Oh, Evan,” he breathes. “I always </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> you were special.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vampire leans close, running one hand up the detective’s leg to rest on his thigh, fingers brushing the inseam of his jeans. Revulsion crawls through his body, but the pain keeps him from so much as flinching away. It’s too much, and it’s too familiar, and he feels like a kid again, and—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A noise grabs Murphy’s attention and he stands up, removing his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Murphy strokes his face absently. “Stay here, Evan. I’ll be right back.” With that, he exits the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan’s head is swimming, nausea and pain fighting for control of his body. His brain is screaming at him to run but he’s so </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He casts a hazy glance around, spotting a pen and managing to grab it in aching fingers. When the first buckle pops open, Evan shudders. He works as fast as he can, wheezing as he all but collapses onto the floor. He wants so badly just to stay there, to just lay down and hope that he dies before Murphy comes back, but he knows that he’ll live. He knows that no one is coming for him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No one ever does</span>
  </em>
  <span>, says a voice in his head that sounds too much like Murphy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan gags and forces himself up, staggering away from the slab and out into the corridor. He clutches the pen like a weapon as if it could help him in any way against a vampire. One hand guides him along the wall, leading him forward as his vision cuts in and out, bright lights and colors popping behind his eyelids. He barely manages to stumble over fallen beams, stepping on shards of metal and glass as he goes. He trips over the last beam and falls, crumpling into a heap on the filthy floor. He breathes for a long moment, grits his teeth, and forces himself back to his feet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rounds a corner and sees a figure out of the corner of his eye, swings without thinking, slashing down with the pen. A hand grabs his forearm and halts it in midair. “What— Evan?” Mason blurts out, obviously surprised. “You look like crap.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>More footsteps run up and Evan’s gaze makes a wobbly path across the worried faces of Unit Bravo. When he stumbles, Mason catches him easily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Evan says, grasping Mason’s shirt. The word barely makes any sound.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No problem,” Mason says quietly. He smirks. “You know, I could always help you clean up later.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan lets out one ragged laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Murphy?” Adam asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I—” he shakes his head. “Dunno. Haven’t seen him since I got off the table.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You escaped?” Mason asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adam cuts him off sharply. “We need to get you out of here before we deal with Murphy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Deal with me?” Murphy’s voice booms. “Just what exactly are you planning on doing with me?” Mason shoves Evan behind him just as Murphy slides out from behind a column on the far side of the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is all very touching, I’m sure,” Murphy says dismissively, hungry eyes seeking out Evan’s. “But that’s my vessel you’re pawing and he’ll be staying with me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason snarls and presses Evan further away, tucked carefully between Mason’s back and the wall behind them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You like him, too, hm?” Murphy smiles. “He was always my favorite, even when he was a young boy. Oh, the horror on his face at night— it would keep me satisfied for </span>
  <em>
    <span>weeks</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The members of Unit Bravo look over their shoulders at him, emotion flashing across their faces. Evan isn’t entirely aware of them, too focused on the way that Murphy’s pupils seem to pull all of the light out of the room as they bore into his eyes. His hand twitches, tightening absently around the fabric of Mason’s shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve eluded me for seven years, Evan. I can’t have you getting away from me again, so I’ll have to deal with your little herd here.” Murphy says, taking one step forward. “But don’t be afraid— you’ll still have </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix sneers. “You really wanna take us on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Murphy smiles, as thin as the edge of a knife. “I’ll take my chances.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason reaches back and untangles Evan’s hand from his shirt, pressing his hand against the detective's chest until he’s as far away from Murphy as possible. Then he lunges, flashing across the room and slamming his shoulder into Murphy’s chest. The man catapults across the room, slamming into a metal beam that buckles under the impact. Mason smirks until Murphy stands up, no worse for wear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess we’re beginning,” Murphy smiles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The room explodes in activity. Unit Bravo rushes forward to join Mason, the four of them not holding back as they punch, kick, and rip with clawed fingers and sharp teeth. Evan tries to keep track of the fight as he stumbles forward against an old piece of machinery, possibly giving himself tetanus as he all but collides with it. The world blurs for a while as the fight goes on, and Evan can hear snippets of conversation that his ears don’t fully register as being words. He snaps back the instant that Murphy appears in front of him, one hand reaching out. Evan jerks back but he’s too slow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Be a good boy,” Murphy says. He jerks Evan’s head to one side and sinks his fangs into his neck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan lets out a strangled yell, nails clawing at Murphy’s arm and face. The vampire is drinking deeply and the floor under Evan’s feet seems to rise and fall like water. In a last-ditch effort to get free, Evan rams his elbow into Murphy’s stomach and the man drops him, staggering back with a laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He falls to his knees, pressing desperately against the gaping hole in his neck as he feels Unit Bravo close ranks around him. Murphy </span>
  <em>
    <span>laughs</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His grin is so wide that it almost splits his face, bloody fangs shining in the gloom. “Shall we try this again?” he asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bravo tries to fight, valiant of them, but they don’t make any headway. Evan’s dizzy from blood loss when he finally comes up with something.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s the plan?” he rasps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adam casts him a half-distracted look before tugging a syringe out of his pocket, concealed in his palm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan heaves a shuddering breath. “I have an idea. But I need you to trust me.” Adam gives him a long look before he nods. Evan tries to smile. “Keep him busy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finds a jagged piece of metal and makes eye contact with Adam from across the room. Adam’s brow creases in worry, but he kicks out at Murphy once Evan nods. Murphy falls. He lunges, sinking the stake into the monster’s leg with a vicious sense of satisfaction. He stumbles back as Murphy roars and Adam takes his chance to strike, stabbing the syringe into Murphy’s neck and jamming the plunger down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” Murphy howls. He claws at Adam’s arm but the larger man doesn’t budge, face twisted in an uncharacteristically savage sneer. When Adam finally stumbles back, Evan staggers over to him, all five of them watching as Murphy convulses, collapses, and falls silent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You did it,” Evan’s voice says. He’s not aware of his mouth moving as he stares down at Murphy in disbelief. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It can’t be that easy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks, but the murderer doesn’t move. When he glances up, he catches Mason’s gaze. They stare at each other for a long moment before smirking at each other. Evan promptly collapses.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He cracks his eyes open an indeterminate amount of time later to see Mason poised over him, leaning down with one brow raised. “You gonna make it, handsome?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The corner of his mouth twitching up, trying to smirk, Evan asks, “Why? You worried I won’t?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason purses his lips and smirks again. “I’m just worried I won’t get to see you all wet again.” He runs his thumb over Evan’s lower lip, wiping away a raindrop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan exhales a breath that’s almost a laugh before he passes out for good.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>A few days later, he’s about ready to start climbing the walls out of sheer boredom. When Rebecca pops her head in after knocking, he’s honestly happy to see her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, mum,” he rasps. “It’s good to see you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She grins and comes to sit at his bedside. “The doctors say you’re healing well, but you won’t let them heal your shoulder?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan rolls his right shoulder, embracing the ache of the badly healed injury. “It’s fine how it is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She squints at him before glancing away with a sigh. “I need to talk to you about what happened at the warehouse.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mum, can we…” Evan cuts her off. He shudders and runs a hand over his face. “Please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her face tightens at the pleading tone. She nods sharply. “Well, your actions impressed the Agency. They want you to become the human liaison for the town of Wayhaven.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyebrows shoot up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She goes on. “Unit Bravo has been assigned to Wayhaven and will be your main point of contact. The Agency is also pouring more resources into this facility to aid you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why?” he asks, brow furrowed. The Agency had never bothered to do it before, even if Evan’s work had been under the radar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rebecca shrugs. “They’re just being prepared. When something of this significance happens, it can ripple through the supernatural community and create issues. With you as liaison, it means the Agency can help Wayhaven should anything occur, without needing to move around the authorities. Everything will still need to be kept a tight secret, but it will offer more freedom to help those in our town. You’ll always be involved or notified of anything we do, of course, and you’ll have access to all of our knowledge and aid should anything happen. What do you think?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan pauses for a long moment like he’s thinking, but he’s not a dumbass. “More resources means I can better protect the town. I’ll take it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighs, face pinched. “I’ll let them know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... you worried about me?” he asks eventually.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She swallows. “When I saw you outside of that warehouse—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something grabs him by the throat, something like grief, and he reaches out to take her hand without thinking. She grasps his fingers tightly, closing her teary eyes. “I’m so sorry, Evan. This is all my fault.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head. “Mum—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door bangs open as Unit Bravo pours in, Felix carrying a bunch of balloons. Rebecca stands stiffly and walks to the corner, her back turned to regain her composure. Evan catches Nate’s eye and jerks his head toward her. The taller man glances over, nods, and goes to her side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you miss us?” Felix asks excitedly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s nice to see you all,” he says with a grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Mason asks in disbelief.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan smirks. “Really. I’m even part of the club now.” Felix grins back. Rebecca’s phone rings and she answers, swiftly exiting the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, how are you feeling?” Felix asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not the first time work’s put me in the hospital,” he answers. “I’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Humans always do heal slow,” Felix says with a consternated look. “I forget.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, you’ll have the detective around now to remind you more often,” Mason says with a smirk. “Who knows what the Agency has in mind for him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For which job?” Evan asks, raising an eyebrow. Felix snickers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What you did for us, Detective…” Nate says before trailing off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adam steps forward. “We’re grateful. All of us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No human has put themselves out there for us like you did,” Felix grins. “So, you know, thanks for that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You caught the guy,” Evan says. His throat spasms a little at the thought. “I’d say we’re even.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Could we talk about what—” Nate starts before a gruff voice cuts him off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You lot, out.” Elidor orders. “The detective needs his dose of meds.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan grimaces and Felix laughs at him, hopping off of the bed. They leave and he forces himself to down the bitter pills, swishing water around in his mouth in an attempt to wash the taste out. When the door swings back open, Elidor narrows his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I told you to go,” the fae warns.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason shrugs. “Agent Greene’s orders. I’ve got to debrief the detective here about some news.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elidor grumbles but sweeps out of the room. Mason strides over and flops into the chair next to the bed, propping his crossed ankles on the safety bar on the bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So?” Evan asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, seems your blood— the whole super-powered thing it did to Murphy— is gonna work for all supernaturals,” he says, gaze darkening. “Congratulations. You’re super special.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan sighs. “Sounds about right. At least they </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> want my blood. Thanks for letting me know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason shrugs, sticking a cigarette between his lips but leaving it unlit. “Just doin’ my job, handsome.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You guys stuck here because of the blood thing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason nods. “Yeah. Seems like you’ll be needing babysitters again once the supernaturals find out about you, and they come to plague the town.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan hums. “You think someone would have been polite enough to mention it by now, with everyone I’ve moved to Wayhaven. Does it bother you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason looks up at the question. “Does what bother me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My blood.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man’s expression drops for a moment before he tosses his cigarette into the nearby bin. He stands, almost looming over him, but for some reason Evan doesn’t mind when Mason’s the one to do it. The vampire leans in, spreading his hands on either side of Evan’s head, so close that his breath rushes across the detective’s face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mason smirks. “Oh, Detective. You’re enticing for entirely different reasons than your blood.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan matches his expression. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Enticing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, am I?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’d rather I name some of your other qualities?” the other man teases. “Because they’re nowhere near as flattering.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re so charming,” Evan says, fluttering his eyebrows exaggeratedly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It seems to be working for you,” Mason responds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A sharp knock on the door interrupts them. They both look over and, when it opens, Mason leaps back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Detective,” the Director says when she steps into the room. “We need to have a conversation.” She casts a glance at Mason before looking back to Evan, who nods.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you seriously give me a </span>
  <em>
    <span>second</span>
  </em>
  <span> job here?” he asks incredulously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Director’s mouth twitches, holding back a smile. “You’ve proved yourself to be competent.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Evan scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Competent, she says…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She laughs softly before growing serious again. “When were you going to tell me about the dreams?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As soon as I can get drunk, I’ll answer any questions you have,” Evan says, growing more tired by the moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes are dark with concern for only a moment before she masks it. “Evan.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Corinne.” Mason raises an eyebrow but stays silent, eyes moving back and forth between them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighs quietly through her nose. They regard each other for a long moment, Evan’s blinks growing longer and longer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re seeing a therapist about this,” she says finally. She walks out without looking back but Evan knows her well enough to see the worried line of her shoulders even in his current state. “Agent Mason, let us leave our friend to rest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ma’am,” Elidor greets in the hall before sweeping back in. “Oh my word, Detective! Are you alright? Your pulse is racing!”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <span>Evan hears a chuckle echo his own laughter from out in the hall, and he grins. “Elidor, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter brought to you by "Ain't No Grave" by Johnny Cash [the escape], "The Hunter" by Adam Jensen [the fight], and "Wicked Game" by Chris Isaak [the flirting]!</p><p>I hope you enjoyed the ride :)</p><p>Roll credits!<br/>-"Eye of the Storm" by Watt Wise<br/>-"Who Are You, Really" by Mikky Ekko<br/>-"Hollywood Alternate Acoustic" by Car Seat Headrest</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>